Tragic Hero: Rebirth
by Empuu
Summary: The beatings, both physical and verbal, are beginning to take a toll on Keitaro. A chance discovery after one of these beatings, however, may be his ticket to a way out... The only catch is, he doesn't realise it until it's almost too late. Please R&R!


**Empuu here. I don't own anything here except the circumstances under which everything takes place. This is my first story, so I'll be the first to point out a few mistakes I may make. First off, the characters may or may not be OOC. This is because I'm not used to writing them, so give me time and I hope I'll be able to improve. Secondly, I'm not the brightest crayon in the box when it comes to grammar so if you find a textual error that you feel is either unforgivable or inhibiting to your ability to enjoy the story, by all means point it out to me and I'll fix it. With all that out of the way, please enjoy and R&R! **

**P.S. The first few chapters will be fairly short, but they'll grow longer as (or if, should things not go so well, i.e. No one reads it), the story progresses.**

--------------------------------------------------

The smack of cheek eating knuckle resounds throughout the Hinata Inn, followed by the predictable crash indicating new air conditioning for the old inn as the landlord flew into the warm spring sky. Kitsune opens a little journal next to her bed and makes a little tick-mark. With a shot and a sigh, she counts the ticks dominating each page.

_283 times he's been belted since he's come here. 283 misunderstandings, 283 holes, and 283 chances to find out if his immortality isn't immortal itself. _Staring into her freshly-filled cup, she grimaced as she set it aside. It's happened so many times it's almost routine now, but something was off this time. His attitude hasn't changed, but the...the _feel_ of him in a room has changed somehow, and she can't help but think it's for the worse.

--------------------------------------------------

At the same time, Motoko stared out of the freshly made hole in the wall, tracing the pervert's flight path. Naru stood next to her, taking deep breaths as she cracked her knuckles. For once, Motoko was at a loss for words. She was rounding the corner on her way to her room when Naru struck, not even issuing so much as a 'Pervert!' before letting loose, and Motoko couldn't understand why. She'd heard Urashima talking to himself as she approached, repeating measurements from a little notepad which now lay at her feet.

"Miserable Pervert," Naru growled, starting to walk away before a hand caught her shoulder. Turning around, she looked at Motoko with puzzlement flashing in her eyes. She was about to ask what the problem was, but Motoko beat her to it.

"Why did you hit Urashima? Did he accost you somehow?"

"He was firing off measurements, and being in a girl's dorm they could have only been one kind of measurement, while spacing off. He was so deep in his little fantasies he didn't see me and knocked me into the wall, so I belted him to teach him not to have such dirty thoughts. Especially with two minors living here, who knows what he'd do to them given half a chance." She seemed agitated about having to justify herself for such an obvious transgression, especially when the one questioning her was Motoko, who beat on Keitaro just as much as she did. She would have continued, but Motoko reached down and picked up a little notepad and flip through it.

With a sigh, the swordswoman tossed it to Naru, who scanned the contents with a grimace. "It's a list of measurements for the railing surrounding the roof. It's been rotting horribly, so we suggested he fix it so no one would fall and get hurt, remember? After all, I practice up there, Shinobu hangs the laundry up there, Su plays anywhere and everywhere she can, and Kitsune's been known to wander around the place if she'd hit the bottle pretty hard that day. He must've just gotten done inspecting it when he bumped into you, and before he could say anything you sent him flying."

"Well, how the hell was I supposed to know?! He does so many sick things around here I just sort of assumed he was up to no good as usual. Why are you defending him, anyway? You know as much as I do what he's like, since you punish him right along with me!"

"Keitaro's changed, Naru." Motoko had a hard time keeping her face neutral, Naru's stubborn inability to admit a mistake grating on her nerves. Guilt mixed in with as well, her conscience reminding her that she was the same way at times. "He may not show it very much, but his attitude...they way he carries himself, it's changed. You all see the same clumsy person you always have, but I've seen the aura surrounding him. He seems more burdened these past few weeks, and the weight is adding up. This realization is what has me defending him, because it's forced me to look at some of his past actions to try and figure out what happened. And you know what I found, Naru?"

A shake of the girl's head told her to continue. "I found that his actions, though appearing perverse, were natural reactions. When he'd trip and grab your chest or mine, all he was doing was trying to keep himself from falling. If we tripped, any one of us, we'd do the same thing out of a natural interest in keeping ourselves unharmed. It is, however, ironic that in those situations he'd be less injured if he'd just allow himself to fall." _It'd be a lot cheaper, too._ she added in her mind as she glanced at the hole they stood next to.

Naru, doing her impression of a beached fish, finally found her voice. "And all the times he's walked in on us as we were bathing, or the times we'd find Kitsune unconscious and half undressed on top of him?" She knew her case was weak, but she wouldn't allow herself to give up her position.

"On both accounts, the answer is Kitsune herself. Out of all the bath incidents, how many times did we look shortly after his beating and find the occupied sign hidden, although we knew we'd left it out before getting in? And as for finding her with Keitaro, she's always drunk in those situations. She can barely keep her inhibitions in check when she's sober, so imagine how she is after a few bottles of sake. Her problem was, and is, she'd get too drunk, pass out in the middle of it, and leave Keitaro to our sparse mercies. Besides, for as much as you go on about his perversion being a bad influence on Shinobu and Su, do you think the sight of you and I sending him through the roof every chance we get is any better for them? We're just lucky they're still in school this time."

Watching the defense she'd built around herself since the boy arrived crumble before her very eyes, Naru could only growl and throw the notepad on the ground before stomping away. Motoko just shook her head and went to her room. Things would be changing around here, and she only hoped it wouldn't be too painful.

--------------------------------------------------

All he knew was pain. Pulling himself out of a ditch, he waved away the concerned looks of the people around him. Getting a good look around, he found himself in a little downtown park across the street from a stretch of antique and pawn shops. Whatever he'd done, it must've been bad since he didn't even get the pre-flight scream to warn him of his up-coming doom. Deciding to give Naru a chance to cool off, he crossed the street and went into one of the little shops.

"Welcome, young one." Keitaro looked over to see an old man sitting behind a glass counter, newspaper lowered at the arrival of a new customer. "Anything I can help you find?"

"No, thanks, I'm just gonna browse for a bit." receiving a nod, Keitaro roamed through the store before coming to a stop in front of a little, well-hidden case near the back. Inside was what appeared to be a hand made out of steel, a bandoleer of small knives missing their handles, and a short belt knife with an old leather sheath. Sitting foremost in the case, though, was an iron rod wrapped in tattered tape with a small lump exposed at one end and an extremely large and thick gross-guard at the other. At one time it may have had a distinct shape, if he looked hard enough he could still see the traces of flattened surfaces, but time seems to have smoothed and rounded it beyond all original recognition.

"Ah, I see you've found one of our less-popular sets." Keitaro jumped a little, not hearing the old man come up behind him. "I've been told those are quite old, but I've never been able to get an answer as to how old, and no one's really shown interest in them."

"Yeah?" Keitaro seemed a little surprised at that. "Huh, well I know a guy who works at the University in the Archeology department. He'd probably be pretty interested in them. If they're as old as they look, anyway."

"Twenty bucks and you can take them to him yourself and find out, kid."

Keitaro's head zipped around to look at the guy. "You serious?"

"Yeah, they're only taking up space at the moment. Space which can be used to show merchandise with a hope of selling. Most likely, you'd be doing me a service."

Handing over the cash without hesitation, he took his new items and headed out with a little spring in his step and a fervent hope in his heart that Naru will have either calmed down or stepped out by the time he got back.


End file.
